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people in New Orleans." He paused to scour the
crowd to see if there was even the hint of
insubordination in anyone's eyes. My heart sunk. He
seemed a man void of any emotion, except prejudices
against rich New Orleans people.
The clerk read our petition and then Judge
Barrow turned his sharp, hard gaze on Monsieur Polk. "You have a case to make," he said.
"Yes, Your Honor. I would like to begin by
calling Monsieur Beau Andreas to the stand." The judge nodded, and Beau squeezed my hand
and stood up. Everyone's eyes were fixed on him as
he strutted confidently to the witness seat. He was
sworn in and sat quickly.
"Monsieur Andreas, as a preamble to our
presentation, would you tell the court in your own
words why, how, and when you and Ruby Tate
effected the switching of identities between Ruby and
Gisselle Andreas, who was your wife at the time." "Objection, Your Honor," Monsieur Williams
said. "Whether or not this woman is Ruby Tate is
something for the court to decide."
The judge grimaced. "Monsieur Williams.
There isn't a jury to impress. I think I'm capable of
understanding the question at hand without being
influenced by innuendo. Please, sir. Let's make this as
fast as possible."
"Yes, Your Honor," Monsieur Williams said,
and sat down.
My eyes widened. Perhaps we would get a fair
shake after all, I thought.
Beau began our story. Not a sound was heard
through his relating of it. No one so much as coughed
